I Never Said I Loved You
by PopcornandGreenery
Summary: “Don’t leave me.” He heard his voice crack and more tears made their way down his cheek. He seemed not to notice. “Please don’t go. Come back!" he wailed.


Disclaimer: I do not own any of Tolkien's characters or anything Lord of the Rings related.

Aragorn broke through the circle of people standing on the battlefield. He saw who the soldiers were gathered around, and his breath caught in his throat.

…_No…_

It wasn't possible. It couldn't be! She wasn't supposed to be here…nowhere near here…She was far, far away…safe and unharmed.

Yet there she was…lying on her back on the dusty ground. Her limbs were splayed at odd angles. Her sword lay a few feet away. Her breathing was raspy and her chest rose slowly, almost painfully.

Aragorn met Legolas' gaze, who knelt at her side. The Elf slowly and mournfully shook his head, his blonde hair swaying gently from side to side. Legolas stood slowly, and walked to Aragorn, who had not taken another step. He stood as still as stone. Legolas placed a hand on the dazed man's shoulder.

"I am sorry, mello-nin." He swallowed painfully, not just for the life he knew would soon be gone, but for his friend who would great for it. "I…she…" Legolas closed his mouth and opened it again. "You should go to her."

The Elf walked away, keeping the rest of the soldiers at a respectful distance.

Aragorn dropped to his knees next to the limp form. Holding back tears, he gathered up the body in his arms, careful not to cause her pain. With his arms holding her shoulders for support, Aragorn found the will to speak and force his lips to move.

"Arwen?" he whispered. He felt her take a shuddering breath and her eyes fluttered open. Looking into those beautiful blue orbs, Aragorn's world opened up. He could always get lost in those eyes…

"Estel," Arwen said weakly. There was pain in her voice.

Aragorn noted a spot of blood blossoming on her cloak. He lifted the cloth, which lay over her shoulder. A black arrowhead had been sunk into the cavity between her shoulder and neck. A broken shaft protruded from the wound. Aragorn wanted to scream, but it caught in his throat and came out as a gargled grunt. He placed the cloak back over her shoulder.

Summoning his courage, he smiled weakly and said, "It is nothing. You are going to be fine."

Right away he could tell that Arwen had seen right through his lie.

"No," she said calmly. "My time here is done. I go to white shores." Her low voice stayed unusually even.

"No," Aragorn whimpered, unable to dam his tears any longer. A single tear rolled down to his chin and splattered on Arwen's cheek. He gently brushed it away with the pad of his thumb. He sniffed and inhaled deeply. "No, no you're going to be fine." He plastered a forced smile onto his face. "We'll take you to the House of Healing, you can get some rest and you will be on your feet in a matter of days." He gulped.

A pale hand came up and ran its fingers through Aragorn's hair. "Estel," Arwen started, her voice weaker than before, "I am not afraid. You have given me a happiness I never thought possible. You will always be in my heart, no matter where I am. You can go on without me."

At that moment, Aragorn decided he did not care what Arwen was doing here, caught up in this battle, or why. He only knew that he wanted her to live, to stay with him until he was old and gray and it was his time to die.

He pulled her closer to his chest, a hand gently holding the back of her neck. "Arwen," he whispered, "don't leave me." He heard his voice crack and more tears made their way down his cheek. He seemed not to notice. "Please don't go. Don't go where I cannot."

Aragorn was full out crying now. His face was soaked with salt water tears and his vision was blurry. His throat hurt from his ragged breathing. His muscles were shaking uncontrollably and he could barely hold Arwen steady. He felt as if his heart was falling apart, piece by piece. His mind was in a haze, a swirl of emotion he could not even begin to decipher, nor was he aware of the circle of people surrounding him. He was losing her…the only person who truly made him happy…his Arwen. His love. He spoke her name softly.

Arwen gasped and a shadow passed over her eyes. Aragorn's eyes widened and he held his breath, terrified of what he knew would come next. Her eyes slowly began to close…

"Arwen! Arwen, no!" Aragorn screamed, desperation dripping off his words.

Slowly, so slowly that it was almost painful, Arwen's eyes reopened and she turned her head to look into Aragorn's eyes. "Es..Estel I…love?...you." The last word came out as a great sigh and her body went completely limp in Aragorn's eyes. Her blue eyes stared straight ahead, unseeing.

Aragorn released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "Arwen?" he whispered. Why did her eyes look like that? There was no light in them. "Arwen?" he asked again. Why wasn't she moving? He shook her gently. She was no longer breathing. "Arwen?!" he called, his panic rising. He took her head gently between his hands. Her skin was so cold…He slowly turned her head to one side. She didn't seem to notice. "Arwen?" he squeaked. "What's wrong?"

Somewhere in the back of his head, some little voice told him she was dead. She couldn't be dead…she was just alive a minute ago…it was not possible. But it also was not possible that she was lying here, in the middle of a battle field strewn with Orc carcasses, but here she was. Was it also possible that she be…

He placed his ear near to her heart. Nothing. That little voice exploded into his head.

"NOO!!" he wailed. "Arwen!!"

Aragorn folded his legs under him, taking Arwen's body tighter into his arms, rocking her back and forth. Her eyes stared at nothing, her arms were spread-eagled, and her head lolled back at a sickening angle. He looked to teh sky and wailed, "Come back!"

Aragorn cried like he never had before, not since he had been a very small child. His mournful screams tore at his throat and at the hearts of all those standing around him. He could see nothing through his tears. It was getting hard to breathe. There was no room in his mind for conscious thought. Only grief.

He had no idea how long he sat there, cradling Arwen's dead body in his arms, exhausting his tears. He finally reached the point where his vision was darkening and he forced himself to breathe again. His breaths came in ragged pulls that he could not control. His eyes hurt, his lungs, his throat, his heart…hurt.

After what seemed an eternity he regained control of his breathing and moved Arwen to a sitting position. He looked into her deep blue eyes. Ever so slowly, he brought up his right hand and with his thumb and first finger, closed her eyes. He brought his hand back down.

He gasped in horror. His hand was covered in blood, dark and red. He brought up his other hand, which mirrored the first. Blood. Arwen's blood. With grief he thought he surely must have spent, he gave an agonized, throaty scream and buried his face in Arwen's long, wavy hair. His next chain of screams were muffled. He shed tears that he didn't know he had left.

A thought rushed to his addled mind and he looked up, eyes red, his brain comprehending nothing that he saw before him.

"I never said I loved you."

THE END


End file.
